Cameron Mitchell Is a Moron
by Goddess Andraste
Summary: Episode tag to Off the Grid.


Title: Cameron Mitchell Is a Moron

Author: Andraste

Category: Missing Scene/Romance

Disclaimer: Not mine, but I promise to put them back when I'm done.

Spoilers: Off the Grid (S9)

Author's Note: Actually, I don't think Cam is a moron. However, his behavior in this ep was rather moronic, and I doubt anyone on SG-1 was overly impressed with him, least of all Sam. My frustrations and Sam's kinda melded into this fic. And, as always, thanks to Ayiana for the beta.

* * *

Sam slipped silently into the darkened house, closing and locking the front door behind her. This was only the second time she'd been in the new house, and her memory of the exact layout was hazy. Deciding that stealth would be useless if she crashed into something in the dark, she flipped the nearest light switch. Soft light brightened the foyer, and she was grateful for the low illumination. Anything brighter would have been blinding.

She made her way to the living room and turned on a lamp. With a weary sigh, she sank down onto the couch and tugged her shoes off. Too many hours cooped up on a plane had made her body stiff and sore. She wanted nothing more than a soft, comfortable bed.

Preferably warm and occupied.

With that thought in mind, she summoned the energy to rise once more, idly draping her uniform jacket over the back of a dining room chair as she passed by. Pieces of her uniform dropped where they were removed. By the time she reached the bedroom, she was nude, and anticipation sent waves of energy flowing through her from some hidden reserve.

A shaft of light from the hallway fell on the lower portion of the bed, highlighting the lone occupant. He was sprawled on his back in the middle of it, sheet riding low on his waist. He'd apparently been spending a lot of time at the gym, if his toned torso was any indication. She suspected that being stuck behind a desk was driving him insane, and working out was one of the few outlets he had.

She quietly closed the bedroom door and slipped in beside him, pulling the discarded comforter over the both of them. She inhaled deeply, his familiar scent relaxing her just as much as his warmth.

After a minute, he shifted beside her. She could tell the exact moment he woke up.

"Sure hope you're who I think you are…"

She grinned. "Who else would I be? And if you say Uma Thurman, I'll have to kill you."

He yawned and stretched. "Nah. I'm over her. Astrophysicists are the current rage."

She stifled a snort. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Especially blonde ones. With legs a mile long. Totally hot."

He grunted as she rolled atop him. "Well, it just so happens I'm an astrophysicist. And blonde. With long legs."

She bit back a moan as his hands slid lightly up and down her back. "Sweet. So's my wife. She might be a little mad about this, though."

This time she did laugh, and then kissed him. "Idiot."

His arm stretched, and a moment later they were both blinking in the low light from the bedside lamp. "But I'm your idiot," he offered with a grin. "Have I mentioned lately how much I adore you?"

"You might have. But why don't you tell me again, just in case."

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her to him until she was lying comfortably atop him, her lips only millimeters from his. "Why don't I show you, instead?" he offered with a grin.

A few breathless minutes later, Sam was forced to admit that, while the spirit was willing – very willing – the body was begging for sleep. The burst of energy she'd felt had faded rapidly once she was horizontal. After endless debriefings about the stolen 'gates and Ba'al, a not-so-diplomatic yelling match with Cameron Mitchell (during which she'd come perilously close to simply knocking him on his ass), and a too-long military flight to D.C., her body simply refused to continue. She pulled away slightly and buried her face against his neck. "I'm sorry, Jack," she murmured against him.

She felt the warm vibration of a chuckle. "It's okay. I feel about like you do, I think. I've only been home for a couple hours. And for the first time in three days."

She shifted her hips, and felt his body's rather insistent denial. "I know that, and you know that, but someone forgot to pass the message further south."

He grinned. "Yeah. But I suspect that, as tired as we both are, an orgasm might send us both into a coma. Besides, I think you'd have that effect on me even if I were _in_ a coma."

Amusement began to bubble inside her. Thoughts of ravishing her husband had been the only things keeping her going for the last day, and now that she was with him, all she wanted was to sleep. But still, it was a shame to let such… firm interest… go to waste. "I'd be willing to risk it," she offered, brushing her lips over his. "I probably wouldn't do much more than lie here, but if you don't mind, I don't…"

This time he laughed, rare and full and rich, before rolling her beneath him. "I don't think you'll just lay here, Sam. Guarantee it."

The energy reserve she'd thought was totally depleted apparently had a little more left to offer. "Thought you were so tired." The last word ended on a gasp as his lips trailed to her breast.

He glanced up, his eyes twinkling. "I've got a hot, blonde, long legged astrophysicist in my bed. I may be tired, but I'm not dead." Then his mouth went back to activities far more useful than talking, and Sam's brain finally shut down.

The next morning, they were seated at the kitchen table, lingering over coffee. It was closer to noon, but as they'd only dragged themselves out of bed a half hour earlier, it still counted as morning.

"So, wanna talk about it?"

Sam glanced at Jack over her coffee mug. "About what?"

He eyed the last Eggo, and then shrugged and put it on his plate. "About whatever prompted you to surprise me last night. Not that I mind, y'know." His grin was faintly leering.

She laughed. "You're not going to let me live that down, are you? You're such a smug bastard sometimes."

"I told you you wouldn't just lie there."

She rolled her eyes. "Lucky me, being married to the Energizer Bunny."

"You were pretty spry yourself, Colonel O'Neill."

She just about spewed her coffee. "God, Jack. I hear 'Colonel O'Neill,' and I think it's you!" Then she grinned. "Did I tell you what Daniel gave me the other day? A new nameplate for my desk. Lieutenant Colonel Samantha O'Neill."

"Is he razzing you again? 'Cause I'd gladly come kick his ass…"

"No, Jack. He was teasing a little, but in a sweet way. He said it was for the future, when we don't have to be so discreet."

He wiped his mouth with a napkin and fixed her with a curious stare. "We never really did discuss the name thing, did we? I mean, I'd be honored and all, but I don't expect you to… Well, it's up to you…"

It never failed to amaze her how, when it came to professional matters, he was completely unfazed by anything and everything. Personal matters, on the other hand, sent him into a verbal tailspin. He'd be utterly mortified to know how endearing she found it.

"Jack. Relax. We haven't discussed it because it hasn't been an issue. But, just to satisfy your curiosity, that nameplate will be on my desk as soon as we decide it's okay to go public. Along with my dog tags, uniform badges, ID, driver's license, and any and all legal documents with my name. Our name."

As far as she could remember, Sam was fairly certain she'd never seen Jack O'Neill speechless. She watched as his mouth formed words, but no sound emerged. In the interests of marital harmony, she stifled a laugh and settled for peeling an orange as a distraction.

"Wow."

She glanced up, and smiled at the look of amazed shock. "I had a similar reaction when I thought of it," she offered with a grin.

"Cool."

"I think so."

They were both feeling rather pleased with themselves, so Sam didn't even mind when he reached over and stole an orange slice. "So, now that we've got that settled…" He licked a drop of juice off his finger. "Wanna tell me what's bugging you?"

Sam sighed. She should have known she couldn't distract him for long.

"I might have to kill Mitchell."

To his credit, Jack only blinked. "Did you want some suggestions about method? Are we talking messy, or discreet?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, he's been really pissing me off. Messy would be more satisfying."

"I piss you off on a daily basis. Usually multiple times per day. I'm still breathing."

God, she loved that man. "Yes, but you make up for it in other, more entertaining ways."

A smug smirk followed that comment. "Yes, well, I do what I can. Now, what's going on?"

Obviously, he wasn't going to let this go. "Jack…"

He merely watched her.

"Okay, okay. He's driving me nuts. He's reckless. Cavalier. This last mission, he just about got us killed because he wouldn't be patient, and he wouldn't shut up." Jack's eyebrows were just about at his hairline. "Yeah, I know, sounds familiar, doesn't it? But you… I knew that you'd get us out of whatever we were in. I trusted you. Cam… I don't trust him. Not right now." She ran a hand through her tousled hair. "We got into it just before I left the base last night. I was already in my blues, ready to head straight to Petersen, and he made some smartass comment. I don't even remember what it was. I just let him have it. The next thing either of us knew, Daniel was standing between us and Teal'c was holding me from behind. I don't remember making a move, but according to Daniel and Teal'c, if they'd have gotten there a moment later, Cam would have been on his ass."

Jack looked as shocked as the guys had the night before. They all knew she had a temper, but it was usually slow to build and quickly dissipated. Physical violence, other than self defense, just wasn't her.

"I didn't know it had gotten that bad," Jack offered quietly.

She shook her head. "I didn't, either. I guess last night was the final straw. I've had some issues with him for a while, but it was something I could work around. Until now."

He reached across the table and settled his hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Sam, by rights, you should be CO. I know you deferred the lead position to Mitchell for various reasons when you went back to the SGC. But maybe it's time to rethink that."

"Those reasons haven't changed, Jack. My position at Area 51 is still open, waiting for me. More and more often lately, I think about it. I don't want to be at the SGC for the rest of my life. I want something resembling normalcy. I want a family, Jack. Between my age and my messed-up body chemistry, my chances aren't great, but I at least want the chance to try."

He sighed deeply. "Sam, I want that, too. But we're both where we need to be right now. It sucks, but that's the way it is. Believe me, nothing would make me happier than puttering around the house all day, chasing after a kid or two, and being your adoring househusband."

For the first time, she noticed wetness on her cheeks, and wiped away a few errant tears. "This didn't really accomplish much, you know."

He grinned. "Maybe not, but you feel better, right?"

The weight that had been pressing down on her was still there, but felt somewhat lighter. "Yeah. A little."

"You're sure about not wanting to be SG-1's CO? I'm sure Daniel and T would back you up if you really wanted it."

She nodded. "I'm sure. I think I know how you felt last year. As SG-1's CO, I knew I was good at my job. But it wasn't me. You were a great base CO, but it wasn't you. We were both in positions we were imminently qualified for, and deserved, and we were both miserable. Right now, yeah, it sucks. Neither of us is happy, but we're not miserable. It's a small distinction, but it's one I can live with for a while."

His eyes, so dark and unfathomable at times, were now warm and understanding. He smiled slightly. "As long as you're sure." Then he grinned. "You realize Hank will have gotten wind of your little to-do, and he's gonna have both your asses in his office Monday morning."

Sam laughed and got up, circling the table to pull her husband out of his chair. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him lightly. "Yes, well… Let's not dwell."

With an impish grin, she tugged him down the hallway to the bedroom, and proceeded to spend the rest of the day using as little brainpower as possible.

It was a good weekend.


End file.
